Field Mission 5: Il Prigioniero, Part 2

[balancemod]

Once you sacrifice something here, you don't get it back. NAVIGATION Click here for the RNG thread! 1. THE MANAGER'S CHALLENGE A. MEET THE BOSS Once upon a time, there was a man, a woman, and a little boy. They were a family. They loved each other very much. Once upon a time, there was a monster, a protector, and a dreamer. They never asked to be a family. One by one, they fell under the pressures of each other. There are always layers to any story. There are at least two sides to any reality. When a man kills his wife with no consequences, what is the end of the story? Will the universe allow such an unhappy ending? Or are there forces that drag it on long past its natural span? With a single act of resistance, four Reclaimers have Remembered and thereby broken the cycle of the Night Show. But this isn't the end. This is barely the middle. Because the Wonderland you've seen so far is a layer of new pink skin over an ugly infection, one that goes deeper than anything the Bureau has seen so far. You can see what's underneath, now, as the theme park is whipped away in an implosion of void-space to show you . . . Emptiness. A space that is no space, blank and white in all directions. Free of gravity, every Reclaimer in the park — and, shockingly, Angus McDonald — is held in place with hands cupped and outstretched in front of them, all facing the same way. They cannot move. They cannot speak. They are the audience. Before them stands a man. Slim, tall, nondescript. He wears a bow-tie with a pattern of Rolands on it. And he is smiling. "Welcome to my Wonderland! My name is Adrian Morgenstern, and I am the Manager. It's a pleasure to meet you. Each and every one of you have had a very interesting effect on my Wonderland in my absence. Some more than others, and at greater cost to yourselves — but I encourage individual choice in Wonderland, and ownership of personal consequences. Suffering is a part of life. It builds character. "So, I am proud of you. So proud, in fact, that I've decided to bring you all backstage. You kept trying to see behind the curtain, didn't you? You'll really enjoy it. There is a great deal to do, so much to explore, and so many games to play. Every second you breathe in Wonderland is a game with stratospheric stakes. You're very brave to take the risk. "And to make things more interesting, I have set up a very special game for you little detectives, who so love to stick their noses into strange secret corners. I challenge you to a Scavenger Hunt. You accept, because you have no choice. Here is what you must gather: "The vacant bodies of Leonardo da Vinci, Minato Arisato, and Henrik Merryweather. The people who have been lured here after your carelessness shattered their livelihood. Have you located them all already? Or did you miss a few? Ten lost little elves, misled and apprehended. And, lastly— "My son. Bring me my son. Bring Niel to me, and I will give you the Compact." There's a crack in the facade. A literal crack; something in the structure of his face is off suddenly, like something has fractured and slid. One cheekbone higher than the other, a hairline fracture underneath his eye. You blink, and it's fixed. His smile is wide, but his face is whole. Suddenly, in each Reclaimer's outstretched hands (and in Angus's), there is a single three-sided die. On each side is written a word: BODY, MIND, or SPIRIT. "Don't lose these, now! These are your cheat codes. If you find yourself struggling with the scavenger hunt and in need of a little help, you can play a little game of chance to give Wonderland something of yours. It won't take anything that will kill you, don't worry. But it will take things that matter, and it won't give them back. "One more thing, and then I'll let you go. I've given you some cheats, but in order to keep you from finishing the game too quickly, I'm taking something away, too. Everyone, please take good care of yourselves while you're here. You're all precious cargo. And there's no healing in Wonderland." He winks. And blinks out of existence. And suddenly, the nonspace you occupied is gone, and you are Somewhere Else. Back to top 2. WONDERLAND, UNDER THE SKIN B. THE ILLUSION COMES DOWN CW: Emetophobia, body horror, reality caving in on itself For a short time after Adrian leaves, everything is as it should be. Wonderland is Wonderland, but quiet and still aside from the background music. After a few breaths, heartbeats slowing, the music warps and bends like rotting wood, going further and further off key until it grinds. Clangs once, loudly, down to your bones, and halts. The world freezes in absolute silence. Then. A sizzling noise. Burning paper. The illusion starts to die. To your left, the floor peels up like it's made of paper, mist, waving like a mirage before your eyes. Colorful red velvet floors reveal dark green and glowing violet moss and fungus. Gold tile floors give way to ebony wood, gone rock solid in atrophy. Disease. A small black vine reaches from the floor towards you, towards Life, but withers and hardens before your eyes. You need to leave. To your right, a wall bleeds. Is it actually blood? Sap? The color seems to run away from your eyes - goldredwhiteyellowblackblackblack - covered with an iridescent sheen, an oil slick, pouring out and up and towards in ways that burn your eyes and soul. You need to leave. All around you, the Wonderland you've come to know burns like shadows in sunlight, or sunlight to shadow. The ceiling and walls and everything morphs to the inside of some unfathomably large tree. Roots and branches and gouged out holes, forming paths of the most non-ecludian sort. Some... things out of sight climb up and down in the darkness, looking for purchase, escape, travel. Far too many limbs, or none at all. You need to LEAVE. Not yet. You want to help. You need to help. You grab the nearest non-reclaimer - an elf, a visitor, someone - and they are both far too light and far too heavy. Stiff like wood in your hands. Their skin is gray, ashen, black veins in porcelain skin. Eyes gone solid black, they try to say something, but all that comes out is a spew of thick black tar - leaking from their eyes, ears, nose, vomit, cracks in their joints and once-flesh. The amorphous Black they just expelled pulses, then skitters down between the wood at your feet. You look at your skin. Your veins are too dark. Visible. Present. A weight builds in your heart, The Reclaimers (and Angus) can still move, bolt for what was once a cascade of colors, lights and joy. Now it's a gaping maw, jagged edges like splintered teeth around a hole like a cavity, sap like pus seeping out of the edges. The once-elevator now-branches bring you back to Shadowdale, covered in a charcoal smog that seems to smile at you from every angle. C. THE CAVALRY ARRIVES Lucretia, after receiving Sans' text about the current state of affairs within Wonderland, is faced with a decision that only she could make. Years ago, she came upon this place and lost decades of her life, all in an attempt to stop the mechanations of this horrific landscape. Her biggest failure, a thorn in her pride, she assembled the Bureau of Balance not long after her visit in order to take down places like this. People or things who obtain a power they should not have. She doesn't know why Wonderland is the way that it is, she can only guess that the Grand Relic has corrupted the World Tree down to its core. But more than that, more than the years she put onto her life for a wager of chess, more than the meticulous, maddening obsession she has with destroying every single one of these objects that threaten the world- her Reclaimers are here. Her Reclaimers. Against the judgment of most of her advisers and Moon Base employees, she grits her teeth and holds tight to her staff. Carey, Killian, and Lucretia descend upon the forests of the Cormanthor region. It takes them far, far too long to make it through the wilds. The forest can sense when someone is coming to destroy it, and thus, sends everything it can against them. Enchantment after enchantment gets flung their way, but she knows better. She's seen Wonderland before and she reckons that no one has ever visited this place twice. Arriving in Shadowdale, she looks up to see Yggdrasil in its sad, sorry state. Clasping her staff in place, finally here, she is resplendent in her detestation of this unholy place. A few of you might be there at the base of the tree when Wonderland transforms into its hellscape, and you might see her approaching, purposeful, as if every step is one of reclamation and poise. Angus McDonald looks upon her and tilts his head, trying to figure out what exactly it is that's going on. Lucretia warmly smiles at him. "Hello, Angus. I've heard much about you." "Ma'am?" But her attention is turned to another little boy, terrified otherwise. His face is darkened, sickly colors rooting through his veins and showing up against a pale skin. Niel. Ah, she remembers him, too. Her face gives no sign of anger, of fear, or resentment. "Don't worry, Niel. We'll free you from that monster." She doesn't renege on her promises. Lucretia slams her white oak staff on the ground and in an instant, a flash of brilliant luminescence fills all of Shadowdale, expelling the darkness that lingers around the corners of the sleeping town. She erects a magic dome from the center of her origin, expanding out from her as she concentrates on her magic. Lucretia's gifted in the arcane herself, you see, and a giant Globe of Invulnerability spell now blocks entrance nor exit from this zone. And for the first time in centuries, Shadowdale sees sunlight. Carey and Killian flank her. She needs to concentrate on this spell in order to keep it active, and they're there to stop anyone who thinks about getting in her way. D. NEW RULES OF WONDERLAND It's a zero-sum game here that Adrian is wagering. Lucretia didn't bring Dr. Tank down to Shadowdale for a very specific reason; an expert chess player herself, she always thinks in terms of move by move encounters. She figures that the rules would change quickly once the Reclaimers had figured out what was behind the curtain, so to speak. There's no way that Wonderland would allow healing or restoration of a body within its confines. She aims to cut this place off from the outside world. To quarantine it away from escape and cage it inward like an animal. No, Dr. Tank would be useless here, and if anything... dangerous, to put their chief of medical staff here in the middle of the mission. And thus, no one can come in or out of the area once she's erected the barrier. Returning to base is no longer an option for the remainder of the mission, including any and all facilities provided by its administration: Bender's food, Fantasy Costco, items you may have left behind, etc. Those of you who have opted out of the horror plot for the month will most likely be spending your time in Shadowdale for the next two weeks, providing back up and support to Lucretia. The work you do out here is equally as important as the work that needs to be done on the inside. Whereas the forest was quiet and still before, it seems to have taken on a new life of its own, now that it senses the Source of its life deeply threatened. Killian takes command from here on out. Anyone not willing to go up to Wonderland needs to stay down here and stop the encroaching darkness from attacking. And she means that, literally. As you look around the outskirts of town, the dome extending well beyond the vantage point you can see, there are creatures, made of darkness, dripping a deeply red sap that sparkles in the newfound texture of light Lucretia's spell provides. One bounds forward from the edge of a building, four legs crawling and made of pure shadow, and attempts to make an attack towards the Director. Carey cuts it down as it splits into two and vanquishes into a dark dust. "What the hell are these ugly gods-damned things?!" Some of you might've noticed it before in your rolls, but in the light provided by Lucretia's spell, there's no denying it. Negativity forms a dark cloud straight from Carey's mouth, as her eyes go wide at the sight of it. The monster at her feet, now a cloud of dust, seems to feed on it as it reassembles back into its form. What the actual fuck. Back to top 3. A TASTE OF GOOD SUFFERING E. REEDS GROWING OUT OF MY FINGERTIPS The Wonderland the Reclaimers and Angus find themselves in now looks nothing like the Wonderland they left behind. The feel of it is similar, except that the creeping dread has officially crept. It's here now, fully-formed and breathing down the back of every single neck. What was whispered before is screamed now: Wonderland is here to hurt you. The fun it seeks is not for you, but fuel for something else, something you haven't found yet. Nonetheless, you're here to feed it. And so, you begin to realize, is Yggdrasil. The naturally-minded among you begin to realize it with sickening certainty: the roots, the veins, the stiffness and the ever-present tarlike substance stem from the sickness of the World Tree. Wonderland, and all of you, are within Yggdrasil's rot now — and as much as it tries to reject this magic, the insidious power of the Compact has taken over too far. The tree is dying. Inside of it as you are, you can practically feel it. The entire place is a warren, structured like the tree it's draining the life out of. From the central trunk, the central locations that used to be Squares slide off from the main body in long, twisting branches that turn in nonsensical directions before abruptly coming to a halt. Each Square exists in uncomfortable parody here — or maybe the original was the cruel joke, because the purpose of Wonderland is suffering. At any turn in your path through the channels of Wonderland, you'll be swimming through darkness creeping in on all sides. No light can penetrate past your periphery, with very few exceptions; you are a moving lantern in this blackness, functioning on faith that whatever comes at you, a mystery until the last moment, will be something you can handle. Stumble into Battle Square and find yourself face-to-face with a monster of vicious intelligence and amorphous shape, delighted to cut you to ribbons over a period of hours while telling you every secret shame you've ever harbored. In Event Square, a knot midway up the endless trunk, time goes taffy-sticky as you trip through loops of memory blasted on every wall, loud and confusing and overwhelming, going on for what seems like forever. There's more, of course — more discrete spaces than you could even see in Wonderland. Any manner of horror you can consider can be found here, as vast as Yggdrasil itself. One or two places, though, will be particularly easy to recognize — and difficult to escape. F. THIS IS NOT FOR YOU Sometimes, investigation gives us little tips and tricks for solving the next stage of the puzzle. For example: Michael found a map to the mirror maze, back in the first iteration of Wonderland. But unfortunately, sometimes the setting also cheats. Ghost Square is still here — but maps aren't going to do you any good. Enter this section of Wonderland and the door behind you doesn't exist anymore. It doesn't pop out of existence; it just isn't, like it never was, like maybe you imagined it in the first place. A hallway, apparently manmade, stretches out in front of you, dark and cold. It appears to be approximately 60 feet long. The walls are black. When you reach out to touch them, they are freezing to the touch and too smooth to be natural, not shiny enough to be polished, too hard to be plant matter. You have no idea what they are, but touching them saps the warmth out of you, so you stop. You keep walking, a halo of light around you but stretching no further than a few feet in any direction. You walk for 60 feet. The hallway keeps going. It hasn't gotten longer, but it hasn't gotten shorter, either. It keeps going. It keeps going. You continue until your feet hurt or you get sick of this bullshit, whichever comes first, and then you turn back the way you came. Maybe you think you'll see a door, or maybe you're not thinking very clearly anymore. Back the way you came, there is a staircase. It wasn't there before. You certainly didn't pass it. It spirals down into the depths. It could be a story deep or a hundred. You have no way to know. You turn back towards the direction you originally walked, and there is only a wall. It's the spiral staircase or it's nothing. You go down. As you descend, it gets colder. Colder and darker, and the darkness and cold press against you, creep under your skin and make you shake. The halo of light around you begins to dim the deeper you go. If you go deep enough, it will be hard to tell what's light and what's your imagination. Because really, honestly? The longer you stay in this place, the more you begin to think you're hearing things. Whispers just beyond your ability to decipher. A soft laugh, like that of a child or someone trying to stay quiet. And if you stop, or rest, or feel something negative — anger, frustration, sorrow, despair, it doesn't matter, because a black fog drifts out from between your lips. And in the distance, something roars. Just a little bit closer every time. Every once in a while, as you descend the staircase, you will pass a mirror with a red X taped near the top. Sometimes you'll see yourself in it. Sometimes you'll see something worse. When you get right down to it, what you get out of the world has a lot to do with what you put in — so we hope you're staying positive, or you might see something really nasty. G. THE SONG BEYOND THE SONG The aftermath of MARIA's destruction, the Area That Was Once The Night Show is a blasted husk. More than anywhere else, the walls ooze Yggdrasil's lifeblood from where something... was. Something large used to be chained here. Open gashes and empty sockets line the walls and floor. A large root knotted like a spine shoots through the very center of the room, a support pillar, entwined into the ceiling and floor and Everything of this cavern. Growths like tumors rise from the floor - what was once gambling tables look more like grasping hands. A few curl into themselves, knocked over, shattered to splinters in the wake of what was once there. Maria is gone. She is free. There is a sob. Small. Weak. Mortal. At the base of the pillar, half-absorbed into the plant matter of Yggdrasil is Stylosa. Black roots creep up through her arms, chest, face. Her tears are tinged black, but the eyes are still hers. One arm reaches out. She whispers 'please help, it hurt̷̟͂s̶͕̓ ̵̻͂ĩ̸̺t̸͔͐ ̴͙̍ḧ̷̜́ù̸̘r̶̢̓t̶́͜s̸̫͒ ̸͑ͅî̶̺Ṱ̴̿ ̵̠̃H̷̙͊U̸̻̒R̶̯͛T̸͓͠S̸̢͌`- The world goes static, right then wrong then right again, and the original Wonderland surrounds you. Silent - for a second. An explosion of color and canned applause comes from behind you. What was once a stage opens once more. There is the Henrik some of you were searching for, skin plaster, eyes matte black, a rigor mortis smile across his face. His voice booms out of speakers that aren't there. "Welcome, one and all, as we embark on this, our first night! To the new and improved Night Show, with one hundred percent more audience participation!!! Guaranteed to keep you rooted to your seats, haha!" Confetti falls from nowhere, more false cheers from an invisible audience. He bows, stiff and chipped as a wind-up toy. It gives you a chance to angle your gaze to where there used to be an exit. It is there no longer. Doors appear and disappear in wrong places. Chandeliers swap between designs. The new Show is still trying to acclimate itself. "Now, I know some of you have had a bad time here before, but please romaine calm. We-" And then Da Vinci's Body, appearing from nowhere, the same black eyes and battered smile, smacks him upside the head. A slapstick comedy in all the worst ways. "That one doesn't work! We're in an ash tree!" "No, we're in a cactus!" "Ahahaha! Oh, Henrik, you know I'm a succa for your jokes!" Both them and the invisible audience crack out into raucous laughter, doing matching poses like they're both on the cover of Vogue magazine. They whisper something to each other and 'Da Vinci' runs off stage to prepare. "Tonight, in celebration, we'll be holding our first ever... talent show!!! Our main acts are just boooring now. You know what I mean? Look at this mess-" A hand waves out, and Minato unfolds up from the floor, harp welded into his hands, painted and decorated and held in place with pipes and wire. 'Da Vinci' waves her arms, unveiling the elaborate music box. His hands play against his will, plinking out the sad notes to a certain Velvet Room theme. He gets left alone in tired silence for a bit before a note goes off key. 'Da Vinci' yanks his face into the same smile, freezing it in place. TODAY IS A JOYOUS DAY, we are all so very HAPPY, and the eyes of 'Minato' go black. The room is filled with cheers and rainbows, an excited irish jig played out by their wind-up stage musician. 'Henrik' doesn't wander the room, choosing instead to make sure the background music keeps going. The statues and paintings once lining the walls bend before your eyes - reforming into memories from your home, replays of your failures, but all done up in catchy pop-art style and played for hilarity. Rather than Marias, all newcomers are visited by a black-eyed ghoul wearing a human skin. They hand out drinks and paperwork, what would you like to participate with in our talent show? The winner not only gets a job but- One wish from the Compact. Surely that's way more interesting than trying to get out, right? Back to top 4. OOC In order to keep to our goal of providing the most personalized Wonderland experience for all of you, we're setting a limit of 1 RNG attempt per character this log. Additionally, please be aware that while some mundane rolls will have standard-level DCs, many rolls, including those with the potential to uncover plot information, will be high-risk high-reward and will have a very high DC along with steep penalties for failure. As always, we will let you know of this before we roll, and you have the option to decline any roll at any time. If you would like to gain a bonus of +2 on any given roll, those who have opted in to horror content may make the choice to sacrifice something of body, mind, or spirit. We will determine your sacrifice based on your horror homework. It is up to you whether this sacrifice is for the duration of the mission or a permanent sacrifice. As an additional reminder, there is no healing in Wonderland. To a few of you, this will be even more detrimental than usual. To those of you who went too far with your debts or your choices, who have lost your very Selves to Wonderland. A list: ○ Michael ○ Kaede Akamatsu ○ Minato Arisato ○ Akira Kurusu ○ Guido Mista ○ Ryuji Sakamoto ○ Leonardo da Vinci ○ Willard H. Wright Despite Lucretia's spell, the Light won't effect you guys. Over the course of part 2 you'll find you're slowly falling prey to what hit everyone else in wonderland. Your skin will turn pale, your veins will turn dark, you'll start vomiting viscous Abyss that occasionally comes to life, and eventually your eyes will turn black and you will Petrify. Should you as a player not want to play out the vomiting part, it can be exchanged with breathing out black mist. Whichever's cool with your school guys. The speed/intensity of this change and all of its symptoms is also up to you. There are two exceptions. Da Vinci, while she is still a Roland, will simply start going rotten, seams growing old and fur collapsing away. Constant Mending will mitigate this, but she's on a timer to get her body back now. Willard will find that as the hardening of the glass continues, it will start to lose all color and begin to crack in places. These cracks will leak the same tar infecting the other players. Minato, despite being a Music Box right now, is still in his physical body and is not an exception. On a more general note, we encourage you to make your own mini-horrorscapes in this setting! The entirety of Wonderland is available to dark-side, with the exception of what we've already laid out for Ghost & Wonder Squares. Improvise and make a mess. Just make sure to tag anything warning-worthy. Anything on the OOC post is fair game, and if there's something you'd like to try, please don't hesitate to let us know on the RNG thread. Should you have any questions, please direct them to the OOC post linked above. Back to top blurb code by photosynthesis

Comments

iii.

[rockymountaindie]

[ Every time he goes back into Wonderland, it sucks. It gets worse. Alex has, at least, gotten makeshift wrist-braces, courtesy of Lion and Will. Something to keep him from accidentally snapping his wrists, or something.

Unfortunately, he always ends up here. Alex hates the remnants of the Ghost Square. Beaky sits on his shoulder, but he can barely see her in the darkness, only feel her feathers against his cheek. ]

You got any idea where we should look for a fucking compact, girl? [ Soft caw. ] Yeah. Same.

[ He trudges through the darkness through...the mirror maze? He freezes for a moment, as he'd...ended up in his own horrible maze before, but- no, it's not. It's something. Maybe if he can find someone, it'll be easier to find his way out. Or hell, maybe he'll get lucky and trip over that stupid compact. ]

Hey? Hey... Anyone down here?

[eudaimonikos]

[Oooh! It's Alex!

Michael recognizes the kid, but his mind fails to supply any emotions associated with the fact. Only useful information - and there's so much of that, isn't there? He grins reflexively. Boy, this is gonna be like shooting fish in a barrel!

Stalking quiet and careful, he circles around behind Alex, taking care to stay well out of reach. It wouldn't do for them to accidentally brush. The human's probably blind down here, but this is Michael's home turf, and his eyes can pick out more detail in the dark. For a moment, it's so so tempting to reach out and snatch that little bird off Alex's shoulder. Hollow bones snap and pop so easily, and humans have such silly attachments to their little pets.

But that's so blunt. He doesn't want to do that yet.

Instead, he turns his attention down the corridor. That way leads deeper into the labyrinth, towards the stair. And hey - was that a glimpse of someone turning the corner up ahead? They looked almost familiar...]

[rockymountaindie]

[ What? Hey, that's--

Alex tenses up, and Beaky caws lightly. ]

Hey... Hello?

[ He picks up the pace after a moment's hesitation. He shouldn't be chasing shadows or phantoms. That keeps happening to him, and he keeps getting himself in trouble. But, even with the shift in his morals, despite all the negativity associated with the last year, he's a pretty simple and predictable guy.

A moral shift doesn't just switch off emotions, after all. Nor does it make him more of a reasonable person. ]

Hey... Wait!

[ Down the corridor he goes. ]

[eudaimonikos]

[As Alex speeds up, Michael switches from careful, quiet walking to just pure silent teleporting, blipping forward a little at a time to keep the human in view.

He's always found their obsession with each other interesting. It's underutilized, in his opinion; dangling one in front of the other can get such dramatic reactions. It's a shame he doesn't have the real one, but the apparition of Clear stays mostly out of sight, just a flick of hair around the next corner. She's running. Of course she is - she must be scared in a place like this.

Hands in his pockets, Michael swings back around to face camera. Speaking at full volume seems risky even with illusions of silence, but as long as Alex isn't near, he feels comfortable whispering. Like a wildlife documentary, observing the native fauna.]

Now, we all remember what Alex was saying before, don't we? How the girl he loved so much should have died?

[He didn't say that. At least, he never did to Michael, because Michael had stopped short of asking. He'd thought it would be cruel. And it is!]

I'd love to make him kill her, but any physical contact would break that illusion. We'll have to come up with something else. Do you have any fun ideas for torturing Alex? The lines are always open!

[rockymountaindie]

[ Alex hears nothing, focused so intently on getting to the...person. It looked like her. It really did. He shouldn't be chasing shadows. But- but what if it wasn't her? What if it's a person, trapped in here, he could help?

(it's her it's her it's her it has to be her he knows it's her he could never mistake--)

If he could just reach whoever it is. If he could just get there!

Irrationality overwhelms him. He pumps his arms as he turns the corner, desperate to catch up. ]

W- wait a second! I'm not gonna hurt you!

[eudaimonikos]

Liar.

[Michael doesn't know what Clear sounded like, but that's alright. If you've heard one human, you've basically heard them all. He just modulates the generic "teenage girl voice" a little, trying to make it echo strangely enough in the unearthly space that Alex himself can fill in the blanks.

Grinning, he snaps his fingers in the air and plays Alex's own voice back at him:]

It was Wrong. All of us, we were all supposed to die.

[rockymountaindie]

[ Alex freezes. (it's her of course it's her it's her it's her--)

The shock of a response and of hearing his own voice projected back at him keeps him from recognizing the differences. The fact that it's higher, less warm, less of the raspy murmur he makes sure he still remembers. Yet, it's echoing and...all he's faced with is accusation. ]

Clear. I- please, you- you have to understand--

[ Understand what? There's nothing to understand. Beaky caws in surprise, fluttering around his head. ]

[eudaimonikos]

And he should've been dead a long time ago.

dead a long time ago

[Alex's own voice continues to echo back around him, bouncing around the unnatural architecture of the place. Michael giggles silently, just a few breaths escaping to be muffled in his hand. It's old hat to keep his amusement silent; how else would he have run his Neighborhood?]

Oh, I understand. I should've been too, right?

[He leans against the nearest wall, mouthing along with the words as he produces them. They're heavy with bitterness - he understands that's the right emotion, even if he can't relate. It's all over everybody who responded to Alex's weird network post about child murder. Michael's popped it open on his bracer, just to scan for additional ammo. Normally he'd remember it fine, after only a few days, but for whatever reason it's slipped his mind a little.

(He scans right over his own conversation with Alex, not quite absorbing the content. Not important.)

Somewhere, the Thing deep within the labyrinth roars. Clear goes silent abruptly, and then there's the sound of running.]

[rockymountaindie]

Fucki- [ He spins about, trying to aim his voice at the reproduction of his justifications for why Niel has to die. ] Shut up! J-just shut up for once in your goddamn life!!

[ He's driving everyone away from him. He's doing it again, ranting fanatical of what he's learned and turning those he cares about to disgust. (But who cares, if you're Right-- no, shut up, shut up, he didn't want to hurt anyone, shut up!!!)

He grits his teeth, trying again to find her. Where is she? Come back. Please, even if it's Wrong, he has to see her-- ] I d- don't- please, just-

[ The roar. The hairs on Alex's arms rise. He has to get out of here.

(Not without her)
(she's not real alex)

That running, is it her? He tries lighting up the labyrinth with his least favorite thing: a fireball. ]

[eudaimonikos]

[Holy shit, how long has Alex been able to make fire?

Michael leans back a little in surprise, but it quickly gives way to wild jealousy. He used to be able to make fire easy as anything; it's a good old Bad Place tradition. And now he's outclassed by some random human kid! It's so frustrating!

The image of Clear's still running away, from Alex or the monster or both. Michael makes another, closer roar, just as he'd planned. Yeah, the first one wasn't him at all, but he can work with it! The Grease spell he casts under Alex's feet, on the other hand, is just a fit of pique. He's not even considering the fact that the stuff's super flammable. Don't...hit that with the fire, probably.]

well alex rolled a 3, so cw: burns

[rockymountaindie]

[ It really would be bad to hit that with fire, wouldn't it? It's such a shame for Alex, then, that he's more than a little distracted, his mind filled with thoughts of Clear Clear Clear and how he had to, had to catch up with her, to make sure that thing didn't get her.

One foot goes forward, and one goes back, as he starts to call out her name again. He slides, drawing in breath tightly, and the fireball fresh on his hand slams into the ground. Flames erupt around him. ]

Sh- shit...! [ Alex pitches forward, bringing his arms up to protect his face from the heat. Fire licks his sleeves, at his hands but he can't feel any of that-- without even realizing it, he's in survival mode. He's stopped, he's dropped, and now he rolls, fast as he can, slamming into the wall. Not...exactly great, for his recently recovered concussion, but hell, he'd rather that than be on fire.

Beaky shrieks and swoops down, flapping her wings to try and...it looks like direct the fire away from Alex? He's already rolling away from it now, the embers on his clothes dying down, but any little bit helps.

The whole thing's quick, over and done in ten seconds. Alex's already useless hands sizzle, his arms and clothes singed. He practically crawls forward. If he can't feel the pain in his hands... Fuck it, he ignores it. ]

Cl- Clear... Please... Wait.

[ Wouldn't you know it, the kid keeps shuffling forward. He's lost track of where he is, only knowing he wants to get away from the isolated fire, burning away. Beaky starts to fly ahead, to give him a better vantage point; thirty feet and he can see through her eyes, after all. ]

ouch

[eudaimonikos]

[It's true that he didn't really intend to escalate the situation quite that much, but Michael's far from upset over it. He claps a hand over his mouth to choke back a delighted laugh, and instead has the presence of mind to dub in a laugh track. Everybody likes to see people get hurt, right? This is just like America's Funniest Home Videos!

The ghostly laughter of an invisible audience echoes through the hall, louder and more mocking than the sitcom standard. Clear does not stop and wait, but she calls back as she goes:]

You were supposed to die too, you hypocri -

[She shrieks, and then a rushing boom like a massive tree falling cuts both her and the laughter off.

There's no more sounds after that.]

[rockymountaindie]

[ He's coughing, smoke in his lungs making his eyes water. He's almost stumbling along, heading in the direction of her voice, trying to ignore the laughter. He's desperate--


And then it's all silent. ]

Clear? ...Clear!! [ Run. He takes off running again, coughing and stumbling. Idiot. Fucking idiot, toward the boom. But he can't do anything but think about her, whether she's real or not. His mind's mixed up and sick but he can't turn it off, how important she is to him. ]

[eudaimonikos]

[Hee hee hee~

Alex really isn't running very well anymore. It's hardly any effort at all for Michael to keep up. He watches for a moment or two, pausing as Alex stumbles again, but quickly grows bored of watching him stagger down the hallway. This plotline needs another quick swerve.

Stepping closer, he watches carefully for a moment, before darting his hand out to try to snatch Beaky from the air.]

[rockymountaindie]

[ He's too focused on what's in front of him. Beaky is as well, putting her energy into what Alex wants. So, neither of them realize the danger until Michael's got his hand on her. She screams out in shock, starting to thrash and kick with her talons. ]

H-- hey...! [ Alex spins in distress, trying to focus his eyes on who just grabbed his familiar. ] Let 'er go!!

[ He stumbles toward where the hand is. Someone is doing this, this is not real. Get that through your head, Alex. If he can find who that is, maybe he can stop it. ]

tw: violence towards birds

[eudaimonikos]

[Michael laughs aloud, and lets the layers of illusion hiding him flicker out.

Here and now, he no longer cares if other people worry about him; it hasn't even occurred to him that they might in the first place. So when he becomes visible, so too do the signs of his illness. His skin is deathly pale, only a few shades off from his hair, and all his visible veins have gone black - those in his hands, his neck, and even some tiny ones around his eyes. Dark stains from the ooze he's been coughing up are dotted on his sleeves and face, but he's not doing that now. He feels just fine.]

Hey there. [He smiles, and the expression is completely empty. It doesn't reach his eyes, which are similarly devoid of anything more typical of Michael.] Boy, birds are really fragile, huh? All those hollow little bones. It's a very poor choice of pet.

[He squeezes.]

1/2

[rockymountaindie]

[ He was ready to fight. He was ready to swing at whatever was there with his useless, useless hands, to fire an eldritch blast or something. But at the sight of someone he knows and cares about, both looking that awful and being the one tormenting him.

The air's knocked out of him. Alex stares, concerned and betrayed all at once. ] M- Michael--?

2/2 cw: animal death, exposed bone

[rockymountaindie]

[ Crack. Beaky's cries go silent as her neck falls sideways. All at once, she starts fading away, but not before one of her hollow neck bones pokes through her neck.

Familiars themselves are fragile creatures, aren't they? ]

Motherfucker...!!! [ Without thinking, Alex charges forward to tackle him, shoulder first. ]

[eudaimonikos]

[Michael cackles again and opens his hand to let the body drop away. He's actually a little disappointed when it turns out to be fading instead - the smack of a body on wood is much more dramatic.

He doesn't even try to dodge the tackle, but hitting the floor knocks the breath out of him both literally and, for a moment, metaphorically. Everything's a jumble in his head; he knows Alex, but he couldn't quite say how, and for a while the idea that he has any ties to humanity at all, even in his own body's fragility, was entirely forgotten. There shouldn't be pain shooting down his back. He shouldn't even need to recover his breath.

So he won't. It's nothing. He's fine. He reaches up to brace his arms against Alex's, and smiles again.]

Oh, I'm sorry! Was it not Beaky's time?

[rockymountaindie]

[ That'd sting normally. But Alex is still reeling from his own twisted horrorscape, so he pales, trembling. Without even thinking, he tries to punch Michael with twitching hands. He can't feel them. But if he concentrates hard enough--

They curl, slightly. And it's more of a hopeless slap at his face. ] Fuck you!

[ Shaking, not standing. Actually registering the fact that his hands are terribly burned, his arms are hurting, and it's Michael here- ]

You did all this...? The- Cle- Clear, the screaming, it was you?

[eudaimonikos]

[The slap's clumsy, and barely even connects with Michael's face. Instead, it smacks right across his glasses, flinging them from his face to clatter off to one side. For a moment, the demon blinks in confusion; normally those are more cosmetic than anything, but now his vision's gone a little blurry. Is he farsighted? Can he be farsighted?

No matter. He smiles crookedly.]

Was it? Sounds like you have a little bit of a guilty conscience.

[It would've been easy to just walk away from that. Alex knows Clear isn't here; he should have known better.

(And he should have known better, too, than to hand his greatest weakness over to a demon like that. Michael can't quite recall the conversation, but he remembers...glimpses, a picture of the girl, how Alex had felt. Nothing of what he'd said himself. He must have been biding his time.)

The last conversation he had with Alex is also pretty vague in his mind - it was too suffused with his own worry and protectiveness, things that haven't quite survived down here in Ghost Square. So the eyebrow he arches at Alex's limp hand is genuine.]

What's with your hands? You punch like this.

[The punch he throws at Alex's face is, admittedly, not his best. He's not used to punching up. Still better than No Hands McGee over here, though!]

[rockymountaindie]

[ Through all of this, Alex keeps asking himself why. Why's Michael doing this? He can't catch the punch, but he sure can dodge, taking it in his shoulder instead and trying to catch his arm by trapping it between his elbow. He grits his teeth, taking in a deep breath through his nose. ]

I told you already- Michael, what the fuck is going on? What happened to you?

[eudaimonikos]

What do you mean, what happened?

[Nothing happened. He's a - a demon, he works here, this is his job. This is the whole reason he exists at all!

It's such a dumb question that Michael figures he must have misinterpreted it. Does Alex still not understand that those were illusions, is that it? His arm's caught up in Alex's now, and for a moment he doesn't even struggle, trying to figure out what the human is even talking about.

But it doesn't really matter, does it? And this is a bit of an embarrassing situation to be in. What kind of demon lets some human pin them like this?]

Whatever I said to you before was fake. I'm a demon. Seems a little obvious now.

[If this were - someone else. They would have already figured it out. But he's not sure who "someone else" is, so he just yanks his arm free and brings it up to try and slam his forearm into Alex's exposed throat.]

[rockymountaindie]

I don't be--

[ That forearm slams right into his throat and he coughs, falling back and choking. That was...a really good hit. His eyes are watering.

Alex can't really do anything but try and catch his breath. ]

[eudaimonikos]

[Michael's gonna use that as an opportunity to shove Alex away and get back to his feet. He has to brace himself against the wall a little to rise - his back still hurts from hitting the ground, almost as if he were actually some kind of old man. But he's had worse. He's fine.

Turning, he spreads his arms and addresses himself to...well, the camera from the Office.]

Was he going to say he didn't believe me? Now that's a facet of human behavior I find really interesting. What's there to not believe, right? I'm not Santa Claus.

[yeah he's doing his confessional cam right now, alex, you can do what you want]